Situational Flexibility by David R Lewis

Author:David R Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, crime, suspense, murder, mystery, private investigator, action adenventure
Publisher: David R Lewis

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Airbourn

Crockett was up early the next morning and lurched down to the kitchen. On his way through the atrium, he noticed Stitch sitting near the south wall, staring out the glass.

“Morning,” Crockett said.

“Hey, dude,” Stitch replied, not turning around. Crockett walked over beside him.

“You up early or out late,” he asked.

“Up early, man. I don’t sleep much.”

“Don’t like your room?”

Clete had opened up a third floor suite for Stitch.

“Room? That fucker’s a museum with enough space for the Chicago Bears and their families. This is too weird, Crockett. I’m used to my hootch, man. There’s shit hanging on the walls up there that’s worth more than Poland.”

“Wanna stay on the bus?”

Stitch turned and looked at him.

“Can I?”

“Sure.”

“Aw, man, I don’t wanna seem ungrateful, ya know? I mean, that Ivy is a hell of an old gal. Doin’ everthing for these folks that she’s doin, and for that chick we snatched from those assholes last year, and all the other shit you told me about. But, Jesus, Crockett, this crib is too much, man. I need a hidey-hole, not an art gallery.”

“Ivy won’t think twice about it,” Crockett said. “She’d be much more upset to find out you stayed someplace where you were uncomfortable.”

“Your bus got one a them fold out couches or somethin’?”

“Three of ‘em. A couch, a loveseat, and a dinette, plus a john, shower, kitchen, whatever you need.”

“Far out. I’ll move my shit out there later.”

“Great. Want some coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

Stitch followed Crockett into the kitchen and sat at the table while Crockett dragged down the espresso machine, grinder, and beans. He pulverized some likely smelling dark roast Columbian, filled the basket, and fired up the cooker. Just as he started to steam the Half & Half, Nudge, in that psychic way that cats have, strolled casually into the kitchen, floated up to the top of the table, sat down about eighteen inches away from Stitch, and stared at him. Stitch stared back. They continued to look at each other as Crockett finished steaming and filled two milkshake glasses with Cappuccino. He sat and slid one over to Stitch. Stitch pushed his glass in front of Nudge. Nudge slow blinked, and daintily dipped his paw into the foam.

“You don’t have to let him do that, you know,” Crockett said, unable to keep the grin off his face.

“S’okay,” Stitch said. “Cats are cool. Specially this one. He’s an old soul, Man. This dude an’ me have crossed paths before. Besides, he’ll leave me plenty. He knows the rules. He wrote ‘em.”

“Okay,” Crockett said, watching Nudge double dip.

“He with you?”

“Yeah. For around ten years now. Name’s Nudge.”

“Far out. When I knew him, his name was Freaky.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Stitch went on, smiling as he watched Nudge scoop out another paw full. “Ol’ Freaky was somethin’. A dealer I knew had him. Freak always knew when somebody was comin’ to the house five or ten minutes before they got there. Every time he’d go sit in front of the door, you could count on somebody showin’ up.

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